


Ouroboros

by AsterRoc, Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: The Serpent's Skin [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Trans, MCU compliant, Other, Podfic & Podficced Works, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, detransitioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-06-20 17:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterRoc/pseuds/AsterRoc, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: Loki had always been different from the others on Asgard, and had kept the secret to himself. Fate had other plans for him, and would give him an opportunity to actually become his truest self.





	1. Asgard

**Author's Note:**

> Eustacia Vye:  
> This was written using a plot bunny I was given ages ago. Nothing like a deadline to light a fire under the muse! :)

  


Download audio via Google Drive

Chapter 1 - Asgard  
[Full (music over intro / outro)](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1WK4WwnyqG95-KUSlsKL0okBFmKzsN4zJ) | [Clean (no music)](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1xL_hdWo0RpKWL9ptuhrxpL5oaTmxvd8z)

Loki had been fascinated by magic for as long as he could remember. The delicate swirls of the runes, elegant grace in casting, the beauty of the flowing robes of the casters. He was young, too young for the memory of much else, but this he remembered with fantastic clarity.

"I want to be just like you!" he said to Frigga meaning it with every fiber of his being. Odin held no magic he wanted, and Loki had no interest in being like him someday.

Frigga had laughed at his enthusiasm. "It's not common to be a _seidmann,"_ she said gently.

Wrinkling his nose in distaste, Loki shook his head. "I'd be a practitioner of the _seidr_ just like you!"

Her laughter was kind but amused. "You are young yet."

"I know this much," Loki said proudly. "Magic is important."

That softened her already soft heart further. "Of course it is. And of course I'll teach you."

There was no further conversation regarding the appropriate term to use for Loki, but he never thought of himself once as a _seidmann._

***

Loki wasn't terribly impressed or enamored of the armor he was meant to wear, or the garments he was supposed to wear. It didn't fit him, the bright reds and blues of his early childhood. He'd found flowing green and black robes, and had exulted in them, the soft fabric and drape against his skin. So soft, so perfect, and it just felt _right_ in a way the other clothing didn't. It was comfortable and _him._

Frigga had smiled when he appeared in lessons dressed as such, the drape of skirts and long sleeves mirroring hers. "Ah. So dramatic, Loki. Those colors suit you."

"I like this!" he cried, launching himself in her arms.

"Of course," she agreed. "We'll have the tailors redo them to your size and shape."

Tailors never once made him a flowing dress like Frigga's, but the soft, sensual fabrics and bold colors pleased him. The wearing and drape still flattered him, and they did work in the silver ornamentation and all of the delicate embroidery at his request. That would have to do, and he felt more comfortable already.

***

Every young royal prince visited the harem. Noble families often partook as well, though royal favorites were never shared. No one ever said if there was a similar building for women, but it only seemed fair for there to be. Loki would have liked to see what it looked like, but he dared not ask.

His assigned room was sumptuous, of course. Silks, velvets, and satin as he preferred, or the buttery soft suede of his armor pieces. He'd given Sif the metallic armor originally given to him, and took the leather variants she was supposed to wear. She liked war and fighting more than court misses were supposed to, but the grand histories included the Valkyries of legend. "I would love to be one," Thor had mused once with a regretful sigh. Loki had thought at first that he harbored a similar discontent within his body like Loki did, but he'd good naturedly shrugged. "Alas, I am not a woman. The Einherjar will have to do."

Sif hadn't felt like less of a woman for all of her training with Thor and the Einherjar. When the Warriors Three joined the group, she didn't mind the ribald jokes. She rolled her eyes and called them foolish boys, and that she wouldn't coddle them like a mother. So she didn't feel uncomfortable in her own skin, either.

So why did Loki? Why did the cock between his legs feel like an alien thing most days? His body felt wrong, odd, misshapen somehow.

That made this whole ritual with the harem feel wrong. He didn't belong here, not really. The room pleased him, the gentle scents and sweets. This part felt as comfortable as his own bedroom. He laid on the bed, eyes closed, not thinking of the women supposed to alleviate him of his virginal status and teach him of sexual encounters. It all seemed so distasteful, especially with his discomfort in his body, and how ribald the jokes were in military training. Women were little more than trinkets and trophies, unless they were Sif or Valkyries. Loki hated it, but he went along with it so no one would know how odd he felt.

"My prince," came a soft voice.

Loki shot bolt upright on the bed, ashamed of himself for being caught unawares. The girl in front of him was slender, with voluminous breasts and a cascade of golden ringlets pinned in place above the layers of sheer fabric that passed as her dress. Loki licked his lips, aware of a hunger building up inside of him. She was so artfully and artlessly _female,_ and he longed for it painfully.

She smiled, sure of herself and her place here, but unaware of his reaction. "Does my presence here please you?"

"Yes, it does," Loki murmured, beckoning for her to enter the room. "I know you're here for me."

"A way to ease you out of your childhood, yes," she agreed pleasantly, coming to sit beside him on the bed.

"This doesn't bother you?"

"What?"

"To be used as such?"

Her smile was still in place, a thread of amusement there that reminded him of Frigga. She knew far more than she revealed, that smile said, and there was no promise that she would ever reveal all of her secrets.

"Is that that what they say beyond these walls?"

"Many ladies prefer not to speak of this at all," he told her honestly. "Or berate the men that enter here."

"Oh, but it isn't only men that enter our halls."

Loki was surprised. "Really?"

She laughed, a delightful sound his dropping voice could never mimic. "Of course. The matrons may make shameful noises, but it's only the body. There's no shame in how it works."

Easy for her to say. She fit inside her skin very well, to judge by the grace of her movements. Loki still felt awkward and odd, sharp angles that didn't seem to fit who he should be.

She touched his cheek and tucked a loose lock of his dark hair behind his ear. "Did you learn shame about your body, my prince?"

His mouth was dry, his heart stuttering in his chest. He was frozen by her words, her gentle touch. But was spurred to action when her hand came to his groin, to the unruly _thing_ beyond his control between his legs that didn't feel as though it even ought to belong to his body.

The poor girl was startled by the reaction, perhaps less so than he was. "Am I the first woman to grace your bed, my prince?" she asked, voice gentle.

Loki was shaking. _Ergi._ Oh, the men he trained with, all brawny and inherently male, would laugh at him, leaving him a bitter and sour soul.

She stood and gently reached out to take his hand. "I was born and raised here, my prince. I don't know of books or war or whatever it is you're taught. I learned of the body and its desires, how to make it work the way we need it to."

"I haven't thought there was a need to study bodies unless one was going to be a healer."

Her smile uncurled the fear in his belly. "Are you a scholar prince, then?"

"Yes. I enjoy my studies very much."

If anything, she brightened further. "Oh, perhaps that is why I was chosen for you, then. Of my sisters in this house, I enjoy study and training."

"Your sisters?"

"Not literal. But we're all in a sisterhood of sorts. We teach royals and nobles about the pleasures in the body."

"But not only men, you said."

"Many noble mothers have no desire to describe the workings of the marriage bed or monthly flows, but someone has to teach them. So we do."

"And the pleasures of a female body?"

"Of course," she replied, that tinkling laughter rising again. "How else will they learn?"

Their hands were linked together now, and Loki was surprised by how much he liked it. Often, he didn't like his body touched at all, especially those times it didn't feel _right._

"May I teach you, my prince? I would be most honored to have you as my pupil."

"Loki," he said quietly. "Please call me by my name for this."

"Ah. Are you one of those, then?"

He froze, ice in his veins. Was his _ergi_ so visible for a stranger to see it?

"Some cannot perform such acts if there is no measure of affection and respect first. Others can feel desire with only a look."

"Oh. Oh. Is that... common?"

"Yes, very much so, Loki," she said with a comforting smile. "I am Olenna."

"Olenna," he echoed, pulling her closer. "That is a beautiful name."

"They cherish beautiful things here."

"Don't you?" Loki asked, confused.

"Beauty can be fleeting. But knowledge? That is forever."

 _"Yes,"_ Loki breathed in relief. "And the body is so awkward and awful sometimes, something not really in my control."

She stroked his face. "Oh, Loki. We simply have to learn your body. It's part of you, not truly separate from you."

"But you fit _your_ body," Loki replied before he meant to, bitterness in his tone.

Olenna guided his hand to the ties in her dress, having him pull on it. The top of her dress fell, exposing her breasts. "All of it is time, Loki. We feel uncertain as we grow, parts of ourselves ungainly or odd, not fitting our souls."

 _"Yes,"_ Loki agreed fervently.

She reached between his legs again, appearing sympathetic when he twitched. "This doesn't feel like yours, then?"

"Often, it does not."

"What part of you does?"

"My mind," Loki said instantly. "My face, I suppose. I like my eyes and hair."

She grinned at him, grinning as if they were sharing a secret. "Quite striking, for sure."

"My best features, I think."

"You may touch what you like of mine."

Loki hesitated, but at her encouraging nod, he touched her breasts with both hands. "Soft," he murmured in an amazed tone. "I like these," he added shyly.

Olenna carded her fingers through his hair gently, an indulgent smile on her face. "I think I will enjoy awakening you and teaching you of pleasure."

"You will?"

"Oh, yes. Some are bores, no interest in being gentle or respectful. They push and shove and have no care for anyone but themselves."

"Like Thor," he muttered before he could stop himself, then sighed.

"I heard he is brash and bold."

"Not in an unkind way, exactly, but yes."

"A complementary woman was chosen for him. Our Lady chooses compatible pairs."

Loki caressed her breasts, savoring the touch and weight of them in his hands. "I like these a lot," he admitted.

"Would you like the rest of me?"

"C-can I?"

"Of course, Loki," she said with a smile. "We'll go as slow or as fast as you like." She paused and tilted her head to the side. "May I touch _you_ as well?"

Swallowing down his unease, he nodded. "Of course."

"I treasure this gift of your body, as I hope you treasure mine," Olenna murmured.

The words carried the weight of magic to them, making him gasp. He thumbed her nipples, and the air sucked into his lungs as she responded in pleasure. "I do," he murmured. "Can my body respond like this?"

"Let's find out."

The words appealed, as did her gentle demeanor. He allowed her to undress him, to run her hands over the planes and angles of his body, to stroke the unruly cock he didn't always like having. She let him touch her as well, tracing every curve and graceful arc of her body, as if painting her with his fingertips. It was awkward, having Olenna kiss and suckle him, adding pressure to his body in places he didn't realize he could feel any pleasure. Still, he far more enjoyed playing with her body, feeling her arousal on his tongue, her muscles clench down around his fingers. Loki definitely liked her body more than his own, and reveled in the delights he learned.

Olenna cradled him to her, fingers carding his sweaty hair. "You really don't like your body, Loki," she commented.

"No. Yours is more pleasing." His voice was barely above a whisper. This was unheard of, a taint upon his soul.

"Oh, my darling Loki," she murmured. "It might be, but you can't say such things."

He closed his eyes and tried not to cry. "Oh."

She rocked him against her. "Others won't understand that feeling."

"But you do."

"I've heard tell of such things in the halls."

"You can come with me, can't you?" Loki asked desperately, rising on an elbow to face her. "You can be my companion."

The look on her face was heartbreaking, and he knew at once that it was impossible. "I belong to this house, Loki. I would never be an acceptable bride for a prince."

Not pity in her tone, just an awful acceptance for her fate. This was the only home she would ever know. It was beautiful, but a prison as much as his body was a prison for him.

He wept in her arms then, bitter and angry with the Norns for making him this way, for putting Olenna in this house, for making him a prince yet without power enough to truly ever change anything worth changing.

"I will be here, waiting for you if you return."

"Why wouldn't I?" Loki wailed.

"Most don't. We're playthings. Expendable. Interchangeable. Most never ask for us again." Her laughter was soft, self deprecating. "Most don't even bother learning our names."

"I could never forget you."

Olenna's eyes shone with unshed tears. "And I will always remember you, my darling Loki, my dear prince."

"If I were a princess," he whispered, putting voice to the ache he'd never had a name for.

Her smile was heartbreaking. "You'd be bartered for land or prestige, but still more important than I would ever be."

"Not to me."

They had to part eventually, and it stung, broke his heart and left his lungs burning with unspoken cries of denial. Loki asked Frigga for her anyway, begged really, and Frigga only sighed in that patient way that she had.

"We've broken enough rules for you, Loki. Where would she stay? What could she do? She cannot enter court, cannot be at your side in your studies or duties." Frigga gave him a tight hug when he sobbed, stroking his hair as he remembered her doing after his childhood nightmares.

"I'm sorry, Loki. I would move Realms for my children if I could, treat with the Norns themselves. But the hearts of Society and all the traditions of Asgard are not so easily broken. You can visit her, of course, partake of her comforts." Frigga's sigh was resigned and sad. "But more than that can never be."

Loki visited as much as he could, let her dress him in silks and satins, paint his lips and caress him. It was a reprieve from his duties on Asgard, from the increasingly difficult lessons he was learning. Any child of Olenna's womb, even a royal bastard, would stay in the house of pleasures. Olenna was a noble's bastard, after all, raised there rather than the court of Society with her father's people. It wasn't fair, and Loki mourned the life she could have led, what _he_ could have led if he was but born female instead of this male form.

"You are what your heart tells you," Olenna told him, painting his eyes and lips and tucking the pleats of his gown into place. "This is the true you, is it not? This is the real Loki."

"Yes," Loki whispered, voice breaking.

Her tender smile was beautiful. "Then you are as much a woman as I am, no matter the flesh that you were born in."

"You believe so?"

She pulled Loki before the mirror so that they were side by side in front of it. "Are we not the same, my darling? Breasts don't make you a woman. A womb doesn't make you a woman."

Lifting Olenna's hand to his mouth, Loki kissed the back of it, their eyes locked in the mirror. "My heart belongs to you, Olenna."

"For now," she said simply. "One day, it will belong to another."

"You never forget your first love," Loki vowed.

Olenna laughed, delighted, and turned to throw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "No, you don't," she told him, her tone just as reverent.

Neither ever did.

***

There was no real opportunity to return to Olenna after a while. Loki didn't think that Frigga deliberately kept him to busy with lessons or journeying to other realms with her. "Diplomatic communications are very important, and a task I take on for your father." Her eyes twinkled. "He's getting better at it, of course, but I am still his greatest and most secret weapon." Frigga touched Loki's arm affectionately. "Child of my heart, I believe you may have this same gift as I do, just as with magic."

Loki bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Of course. Thor certainly could never hold his temper long enough to aid you in this endeavor."

She laughed at his wit, making him feel warm and wanted. It was almost as good as it had felt in Olenna's room, dressed in her silks and painted with her glosses. It was acceptance, love, and _rightness_ all at once, and Loki craved it with an intensity that took his breath away.

"I think you'll find this new realm of Metian more than acceptable for you."

He didn't know the import of her words until after they arrived in the entry hall. Servants looked at Loki in shock and almost disgust, as if he had done something offensive. The ambassador meeting Frigga was pale, but kept his composure.

The ambassador was wearing a dress.

Loki managed not to stare in longing. "Greetings, Your Majesties," the man intoned, clasping his hands in front of him, elbows out to the side, and bowed at the waist. "I would be most honored to assist you in preparing yourselves for the city."

"What do you mean?" Loki asked curiously. "This is my first visit to your realm."

"Of course. The sight of legs is most... obscene. Meant only for those of bedroom partners. To show them, and their jointing, is a sign of being fast and loose, no morality whatsoever."

Pasting a look of horror on his face, Loki tried to contain his glee. "I had no idea our mode of dress was an obscene gesture for your people. It's certainly not my intention at all. On our realm, this is how men dress." He gestured toward Frigga. "That is considered female attire. Most men would not wish to wear such things."

"I'm sure we can arrange something..."

"Of course," Loki said sweetly. "I am willing to defer entering the city until I have attire appropriate to my station and the culture of your people. Off the rack simply won't do. My attire is all custom made by the finest tailors." He smiled at the ambassador, who looked relieved.

"Our realms surely have much to learn from each other," Frigga said, mimicking the arm greeting that the ambassador had done. "Part of my intention in bringing my child with me to Metian, is to learn the fine art of diplomacy and the beauty in other realms."

The ambassador beamed. "But of course. Learning is very highly respected as well here."

Loki beamed. "Oh yes, I think I will like it here very much."

***

Loki felt wonderful and free and _whole,_ everything right in his world, all finally in sync. He was beautiful and charming, skilled with magic, wearing dresses he loved and his hair long and loose and flowing. He looked in the mirror and saw the powerful, successful and confident woman that he could be, and the _rightness_ of it all took his breath away.

Saying "I am a woman" felt odd and surreal, but hardly unnatural. Saying "she" for himself felt right. He couldn't explain it, but it fit in a way that felt natural. That was simply who he was. Who _she_ was.

 

It was wrong in Asgardian terms; he was a man there, and royalty besides. He had duties and expectations to live up to. Even being on this world, pleasant and wonderful as it was, was only to further his education to benefit Asgard.

Still, he was learning a lot about himself. No, _she_ was learning a lot about _herself,_ and longed to have her body fit the reality she knew in her heart to be true.

Of course, it was too good to last long. Odin wanted Loki home again, now that Thor was back on Asgard from his time on Vanaheim with the Warriors Three. Once on Asgard, away from Metian, Loki would have to be a _he_ again, and it made him sigh with regret.

Loki knew they and Sif all thought him jealous of Thor, and he was in a way. It wasn't the throne. Oh no, he had no interest in that kind of conflict or headache. Loki would have no peace or solitude, no time for study. Asgard would need him. He could probably do a fair enough job of it, though he didn't want to safeguard all of the realms. That would simply be exhausting and a waste of resources, when the commoners had a hard enough time with their existence.

No, Loki envied Thor's brash confidence. He was so sure of himself, so sure of his strength, sure he was worthy. Meanwhile, Loki felt like a pale shadow, not even sure what pronouns he ought to use, knowing his perceived gender wasn't right.

Loki wished it didn't hurt so much to find himself back in Asgard, as much as he had missed its golden spires. He scraped his locks back and tied them tight, was quiet and wouldn't speak of that pain. He smiled and waved, adored his brother as much as everyone else in the realm, loved the shining sun and basked in the warmth of his regard.

Then came the frost giants and Jotunheim, the cruel knowledge that his body _was_ wrong. At first, Loki had thought the giant's taunt of "Go home, princess" had been targeted at Thor. The Warriors Three and Sif had certainly thought so. But as Odin railed at Thor, as the heated words tore open wounds that wouldn't heal clean, Loki thought about his secret shames.

The frost giants _knew._

He tried to intervene, would have laid his soul bare to spare Thor the pains that Loki felt almost every day. Odin silenced him and banished Thor, deemed him unworthy.

As Thor was cast out, Loki _knew_ he wasn't worthy, either. The frost giants knew about him somehow, and he could never be as good as Thor had been. Loki was _wrong_ somehow, and the touch of a frost giant didn't harm him.

And as it turned out, neither did the Casket of Ancient Winters.

Loki wanted to shake as he turned blue, as the raised patterns rose on his flesh. His eyes would be red, he knew. He would be a tiny thing compared to the giants, but he clearly was not Asgardian either.

He was a monster. Odin's words only confirmed it. Frigga, his darling mother, couldn't tell him what he needed to hear. _We didn't want you to feel any different,_ she'd said, when she knew full well about the femininity trapped inside his body, the need to express himself as female and the wrongness that was the male.

By the Nine Realms, what if he had been born female? He'd been a frost giant, obviously, but small and weak and fragile in comparison to the warriors that they had battled. Frigga was an expert at magic, taught him only a fraction of what she knew. She had learned all the orlogs of the wyrd, and was entrusted with that sacred knowledge. Even Odin didn't know them all, and he was the Allfather.

Which meant he'd brought home the abandoned infant, or stolen her, and had Frigga craft a new body for her. Male instead of female, as Odin couldn't bear not appearing powerful.

Loki shook and went to find Olenna. He ignored the other women of the pleasure house jockeying for his attention. Olenna was there, beautiful and quiet as ever, a balm to his tortured soul. He could never tell her of his origins; it was bad enough she knew he was a woman beneath his skin, but this was a far worse secret to keep. He couldn't burden her with it, not when she'd been only kindness and gentle love.

Worse, if she looked at him in horror or terror...

Dismissing the others, Loki drew Olenna to him and waited until they were alone before breaking down in tears. "My lord," she began, carding her fingers though Loki's hair as he clung to her, just as she always had. "My King."

"Don't," he nearly wailed.

"My Queen," Olenna said instead.

Sobbing harder, Loki clung to her. The Queen was Frigga, and the King was Odin, and he was the final son of Asgard, but wasn't even from Asgard. He was a fraud in every sense of the word, not even a man in this traitorous body that he wore.

Her touch was tender and broke him to pieces. She fucked him, riding him so hard and fast there was no time to think, only feel. When his traitorous seed spilled, Loki was surprised it wasn't blue, even though it never had been before, and then he was ashamed of himself.

Mistaking his grief, Olenna kissed him gently and cradled him to her breast. "Shall I take you as a man takes his bride?"

"Make me feel," Loki pleaded, fear and pain and utter self loathing roiling in his gut.

Olenna had tools and oils, slicked him and opened his body to her touch. She'd done it before, a long time ago it seemed, but this time it felt different. As she fucked his ass with the dildo, crooning how pretty and sweet and beautiful he was, something broke inside of him. He sobbed, covering his face, and let her wring the pleasure out of him.

"This is goodbye, isn't it?" she asked him softly, only resignation in her tone.

He sobbed harder. "I think it is. I think it has to be. I'm not right, Olenna. I can't do this."

She cupped his face in her hands. "You do what you must, my love. My darling girl, wrapped in a man's body. It's a secret thing, but not a shameful thing. Make the body work for you, my darling. Learn it, own it. Take control of the life you're given."

"But I don't know how. I don't trust anyone anymore," he admitted. "No one but you."

"Then trust what I tell you," she murmured, leaning in for a kiss. "You are my Queen. They believe you to be a King. So be a King. Do what a King must do to rule and protect. Inside, you will always be a Queen, and always the darling girl of my heart."

Loki was bitter. "I wish--"

"We cannot change who we are," Olenna said, putting her fingers to his lips to stop him. "Your greatest talent is your mind. So _think,_ take control. You don't have to be a man to be the ruler that Asgard needs."

He thanked her, and gathered his clothes. She helped him dress, dropping kisses to his flesh before it was covered up. At last, armor in place and hair brushed again, Olenna gave him one last kiss on the lips. "I will always be proud of you," she said in a hushed, reverent tone. He thought of his dresses, locked away in trunks once home from the diplomatic mission. They'd be too large for her, and he was selfish enough to still want them for himself.

"I will try to earn that pride."

It hurt to part, just as it had hurt to return to Asgard, and Loki tried to harden his heart and pretend not to care.

It felt like swallowing knives.

***

Plans within plans, a twisting and winding road. They all fell apart. Asgard, Midgard, it didn't seem to matter. Loki's schemes didn't matter, but he kept his bluster as a shield. That broke too, eventually. Everything had fallen apart. It was over, and Odin simply looked at him on the broken Bifrost and said "No."

No. Never good enough, not worthy, Loki wasn't a proper son, but maybe the sting would lessen if he had been loved, if he wasn't a monster. But that was all he was, all he would ever be, and he would never be accepted in any form on Asgard ever again.

So he let go of it all and fell.

***  
***


	2. Metian

  


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Chapter 2 - Metian  
[Full (music over intro / outro)](https://drive.google.com/open?id=12PaI65XdzRiMOLyXfmrNoAzoQhVYXSHR) | [Clean (no music)](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ZOlCZaqEIWbUWV7nu06uNs9wOcqea3vD)

Somehow, Loki's fall through the Void didn't kill him. He'd almost hoped for it, but it seemed that the Norns would deny him death. No, only painful memories and harsh realities, denying who he was and trying to force him to be something he was not. He was a shadow, the thing that went bump in the night. Was that why he was a woman despite the man's body that he wore? Was his horrific origin at fault?

Odin and Frigga may not think so -- Frigga had known and turned a blind eye, but she'd known of his monstrous birth as a Jotnar. It likely didn't surprise her at all.

But it still hurt. His beloved mother had lied to him. Odin had lied to him. Thor was too literal to lie, and couldn't dissemble on something so important. So they'd lied to their precious Thor as well. Loki didn't know how he felt about that.

He fetched up on a trade planet far from the ties of Yggdrasil. It felt odd to be so far from its comforting branches, but he'd done it before and he could do it again. Though he had no coin, he had skills and his _seidr_ and he managed to con his way onto a freight ship. Eventually he made his way to the world Frigga had taken him to, where he could wear his dresses and keep his hair long and beautiful. He missed the trunks in storage at the palace, but nothing could be done about those yet. When he was stronger, when his courage was back, he could find the hidden paths to Asgard and steal them back. None in the palace had any use for his dresses, and he wanted them badly. He ached, feeling odd and incomplete.

Something was wrong with him, and he couldn't figure it out.

"Your Majesty!" the ambassador said, sweeping into the detention center that was holding Loki. "I am so sorry for this treatment..."

Loki shook his head. "I am no longer an envoy from Asgard. Things have changed on that realm, and I am no longer welcome there."

The ambassador froze, not sure what to do next. "So why are you here?"

"Because you were kind to a foolish boy, and this was a most welcoming realm. I have nowhere else to go." Loki flashed him a pathetic smile. He wasn't exactly lying, but was perhaps playing up the woeful orphan routine a bit. "I would work for the sake of this realm, furthering its interests in whatever way I can. I would not simply expect everything to be given to me when I have not earned it."

Thinking for a moment, the ambassador clasped his hands and bowed slightly. It wasn't as deep as it had once been, and Loki tried not to feel insulted. He had to rely on charity, after all, and he couldn't afford to be mulish or angry. That would only give the ambassador that much more reason not to help him.

He sat in the detention center, staring at nothing, trying to go through the spells he had learned and the realms he had visited as a way to distract himself. He had to learn patience the hard way, and thinking of his hidden self would only make him angry. Waiting on the largesse of another realm's monarchy was more than enough to make him angry, and adding the insult of his wrong gender and lost homeland would be more than he could bear.

Finally, finally, the ambassador returned with a slender young man in a navy blue dress patterned with silver. "This is Faelan in Hies," the ambassador said, bowing quite obsequiously toward the young man. Loki thought he looked rather fragile and effeminate, and figured he could break him in a fight. "He is of an important lineage in the royal court. One of his advisors had fallen ill, and our King remembers you and your mother fondly for your knowledge and wit, as well as your willingness to understand the customs of lands not your own."

Faelan in Hies stepped forward, and Loki caught a flash of embroidered slippers that looked rather like the shoes Olenna wore. Loki's gut clenched at the thought of never seeing Olenna again, but he forced a polite smile on his face and used the proper greeting.

"I have recently elevated to the post of Head of House," Faelan said, his voice high and breathy, almost like a girl's. "Our family advisor, my uncle, had fallen ill with the same sickness that had taken both of my parents. We are sorely in need of guidance through our grief."

"I don't think I had met with the Hies family in my prior visit to your realm," Loki told him sincerely, bowing his head slightly. "But I recall that it was held in high regard by the High Council. I am sorry for the losses you have suffered," he said slowly. "I have lost much as well, and it's difficult not to feel cast adrift in these times."

The boy's eyes showed surprise and understanding, and his calm mask slipped just enough for Loki to realize that he was in a lot more pain than he wanted to show the ambassador. "Thank you for the kind words. I remember tales of you as well, as I was not ready to be presented at court or sit at the High Council's table."

"Perhaps we can help each other heal our grief."

"It is my sincere hope as well," the ambassador interrupted smoothly. "We will go to the Hies compound straightaway, and you can make arrangements for the proper attire and living space as befit a foreign prince."

Faelan's expression faltered, ever so slightly, before the mask was back in place. Perhaps the finances were not as good as he wanted the ambassador to think they were. Loki stood taller than the boy, and bowed his head again, taking on a deferential posture he didn't actually feel. "I would be your advisor here, not a prince. We can discuss details in a more comfortable setting, Lord Hies."

His relief was palpable, and he took possession of Loki from the ambassador with a flick of his wrist that reminded him of the way Olenna commanded herself in the pleasure palace. 

The Hies estate was as large as the one Loki had been living in the last time he had visited Metian. The outer gardens were well kept, but Loki noticed that there wasn't statuary or elaborate landscaping present. It was ordered and serviceable, but wasn't ostentatious. The ambassador didn't seem surprised by the appearance of the estate, and Loki noticed that Faelan kept his posture ramrod straight. He was possibly concerned with the estate not seeming so luxurious, rather like his response to the ambassador's mention of proper attire for a prince.

One the niceties were dispensed with, the ambassador left for other duties. Loki looked at Faelan and felt sorry for the boy. He was alone and in charge of the estate, and seemed so very young. "Lord Hies, we can discuss the family needs when you feel ready for them..."

"It might as well be now," he said in determined tones. "I don't know what you know of our world and culture, and I have the entire Hies line resting on my shoulders." He grimaced at that, and seemed even more tense. "Best to show you your office."

"You're still grieving," Loki protested.

"As are you," Faelan replied tightly. "I don't do well being idle, and I have had the run of the household for years."

Loki frowned. "But the ambassador said..."

"They know what they need to, and the actual running was our own business."

Faelan almost seemed to be daring him to say something in response. All he could do was grin in a conspiring kind of way. "Is that so? Then by all means, let's discuss how your household actually runs, and how best I can help you. I don't mean to simply sit about and consume your resources."

"Good, because there's precious few to spare. The robes can be refashioned from those of Giorna and Mother, but it might take time."

Giving him a smile, Loki twisted threads of _seidr_ around himself. It shimmered a bit before solidifying into his favorite dress and undertunic, green and gold shot with black embroidery and jet beading. Faelan sucked in a shocked breath at the sight. "How...?"

"Magic. I am quite skilled in the art, so refitting the dresses that you might have sentimental value for will be unnecessary. I am sure I can find other ways to help augment the family coffers."

Blowing out a relieved breath, Faelan nodded. "That is an uncommon skill, to be sure."

"I was told during my last stay that I should not flaunt the talent, since it's unknown here and might frighten some people."

"Did you learn much of the House system here?"

"Just that the Head of House was the one to make decisions and be heard by the Council."

Pressing his lips together, Faelan paused and seemed to come to a decision after a time. "I have to show you the office."

The interior of the estate was as grand and without excessive ornamentation as the exterior. "Ours is an old House, from the very first founding of Metian," Faelan explained as they walked. "We had garnered much respect and property over generations, and our fields had once been the most plentiful. Hies grain was the best in the lands, fit for the High King's table." Loki nodded to show he understood why this was important, though he still felt as though he was missing an important piece to the puzzle. "The power in the House is held by those presented to the High Court, and any unpresented children have no actual standing. The presentation ceremony is elaborate and moves along very strict rules."

"I think I may have attended one before." Loki wracked his memory for the name. It hadn't mattered at the time, yet another party to go to, inane small talk with the ambassador and court officials that had wanted him to conjure illusions on a lark, then titter about it behind his back. It had made him feel somewhat uncomfortable and odd, as if on display for someone else's amusement. "Domani, I think."

"That was five cycles ago."

"That sounds about right," Faelan murmured as they came to a door inscribed with the symbol for law. "Draven in Domani is six cycles now, and Gael ap Domani is set to be presented soon."

"Ap?"

Faelan's lips pressed together for a moment. "'In' is the term for a presented family member. 'Ap' has not been."

Loki watched him closely. "I didn't learn much of family systems when I was here last. Much of my education regarding Metian had to do with politics, trade between realms, that kind of thing. I was supposed to be learning enough to help Asgard communicate and trade. I never heard the term 'ap' before. There is another meaning here, isn't there?"

"Most families present their children within the first few years of life." Faelan took a deep breath. "Ours only had one."

"You."

Opening the door, Faelan went to a large book with the Hies family crest on the cover. His expression was one of dread as he touched the book on the prominently displayed desk. "Every family keeps its history, containing all the secrets and knowledge of their members, though few outside the family would ever see it." He opened the book and paged through it until the end. "The Head of House and advisors would be able to read all of this, of course. 'Ap' members should not. Household staff absolutely would not, but we have so few of those left now, it would hardly matter if any tried to enter this room."

Faelen looked up from the last page, a bleak cast to his features. "Only Faelan was presented to the High Court, and three other children were born. But Grandfather lost favor with the trade consortium soon after the presentation, and most assets were seized. It made presenting the other children... difficult."

Four children, only one that had legal standing. Loki looked up from the book into Faelan's eyes. "I'm a stranger to your family."

"The ambassador has authority from the High Court, and we can't countermand what they ask for. The families that did so in the past don't exist anymore."

Loki blinked at Faelan. His words were stiff and measured, and it was odd that he was talking about himself in the third person all of a sudden. There was something that Loki was missing, possibly because there had never before been need to really delve into the subtleties on family structure and power dynamics. "What happened to your family?"

"I am the only one left," Faelan said quietly. "Uncle had been ill for years, Father had no head for business, Mother was not interested in the family finances, and spent all of her time with Father. The children fell to be my responsibility because the eldest couldn't take care of it all."

The careful and odd phrasing suddenly made sense. "You weren't born Faelan," Loki breathed. "Someone else was."

"It only matters what is seen and recognized by the High Court." Faelan lifted his chin as if daring Loki to say something derogatory about this massive family secret.

"And they know nothing about this. Or how close you actually are to financial ruin."

Faelan winced at that. "There are rumors, of course. Whispers. It..." He pressed his lips together as if it pained him to admit it. "But there are appearances to keep up, the family name to maintain and elevate back to its prior standing if I can. So if you really are going to be the Hies advisor, you need to realize that and help maintain the estate."

Lies and misdirection. Just when Loki thought he could avoid them by leaving Asgard, he was thrust into the same position on Metian. Had the ambassador guessed? Or had the ambassador simply thought this was an opportunity to embarrass Faelan in Hies and tear apart the facade he was so carefully constructing?

Ugh. Politics.

"Let me get this straight. It doesn't matter if the Head of house was born female or male, or what name they had been given. The appearance of things is what matters, and the reputation of the House because of standing in society."

Faelan nodded as Loki stumbled through the words. "Ours is a culture of appearance and rank, and judgment is swift if you can't meet standards." His smile was wan and made him look as if he was going to be ill. "There can be no fault in the shining city, after all."

Loki could definitely understand how that worked, and let out a slow breath as he tried to puzzle out his place in the Hies household. "So it would be the same for an advisor to your house. They don't have to be born of it, if I will be accepted as your advisor, but I would be held to the same standard. It doesn't matter what I was born as, only what I am seen as?"

"Exactly."

Relief flooded him even as Faelan seemed to be dreading Loki's response. Of course, Loki was currently a stranger and Faelan couldn't be certain of his response. But Loki understood feeling lost and odd within a society that seemed fixed on particular ideas. Helping Faelan maintain his identity in this would mean Loki could be free to be the Loki he was always meant to be.

Loki could have a place. He could belong. He could have a _home._

Grinning widely, Loki almost swept Faelan into a hug. "You and I are going to make an excellent team."

***

Loki had to take over much of the financial contracts and overseeing the fields outside of the city proper. The Hies family still owned half of the farms in the city's outer ring, but the output had declined over the past few generations. That had led to Faelan's grandfather gambling on their future in such a disastrous way before drinking himself to death.

"That's figurative, right?" Loki asked, reaching for another of the maps of the outer ring. Dressed in an illusion of an exquisite gown, Loki thought that perhaps being an advisor wouldn't be so terrible after all. It was working with knowledge behind the scenes, and on Metian, no one cared about gender. Status was conferred by House and wealth alone.

There was no need to pretend to be a he on this world, and Loki gloried in it.

"Unfortunately, no," Faelan sighed, pushing the correct map into her hands. He shook his head sadly. "I was just a child then, too young to understand what had happened when I found him."

"You found him?"

"It's my first memory," he told Loki with a grimace. "I remember barely being able to walk, but I found him surrounded by bottles in a pool of his own vomit."

Loki mirrored his grimace. "So then your father would have taken over as Head of House."

Faelan's grimace remained firmly in place. "He had little interest. It should have been Uncle that took over the role, but Uncle had no direct heirs to pass on the family to."

"Does that really matter?"

"It has to be a biological heir."

"Your uncle could have named you heir, you're biologically related."

"Those heirs are... I suppose looked down upon is the easiest way to phrase it. They're perfectly legitimate in the letter of the law," Faelan agreed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. His dress was elegantly embroidered, but there were no jewels worked into it and no ostentatious designs meant to impress others. "The whispers, though. That the family is wanting somehow. The blood is weak, that it's to sidestep a calamity the gods would curse them with." He sighed heavily. "No one believes in it officially, but there is much superstition among us all, and no one wants to risk bad luck."

"So adoption is right out." Loki managed not to shiver. She would have been abandoned and left for dead on a world like this, but she still couldn't manage to let go of the resentment and simmering rage at her parents on Asgard.

"There is no such thing," Faelan said, shaking his head.

Loki bit her lip. "So even though your Uncle would have been a better choice, it was your father who became Head of House."

"And ran us even further into debt with Faelan's ostentatious presentation."

The resentment in Faelan's voice was too evident, and his lips twisted in bitterness. Loki pushed the map away from her and reached out to touch his wrist gently. "Who were you born as, then?"

"Giorna," Faelan said, looking at Loki with a hopeless expression that made her heart ache. It was too similar to the expressions she had given her own reflection when male on Asgard.

"And she was found wanting?"

Faelan's laughter was bitter, tinged with a simmering rage that Loki found only too familiar. "Oh, on the contrary. I was useful for petty thievery when I was small. No one would look at an 'ap' at balls, because we are nothing. So Faelan can look important and attend balls and run up bills we couldn't ever hope to pay."

"Wouldn't the people notice stolen jewels?" Loki asked in concern. She knew that theft was considered just as evil a crime as murder or rape on this world, and was strictly punished.

"I was smart about it, nothing large or noticeable. Mixed in with our own family heirlooms, a few baubles here and there weren't remarked upon." He rubbed at his jaw tiredly and looked down at the mess of maps and contracts on the desk in front of them. "Uncle and I were left to actually try to salvage the family business however we could."

"Did your Uncle pretend to be your father?"

Shaking his head, Faelan sighed. "He couldn't, he was presented, but it didn't matter. He was the Advisor, so he carried the seal and signature bonds anyway. He realized that I understood the vision he had for rebuilding the coffers, and let me learn from the family book."

"So you knew all the family secrets from the start."

"Considering I am one? Of course. My sisters were too young to help in that way, and I didn't want them to. Bad enough they had to make dolls out of broken furniture pieces and leftover scraps of dresses. Mother had some skill with a needle, and had to take over dressing them when we couldn't afford the family tailor any longer."

That would have been a huge blow if society knew about that, and Loki clucked her tongue in sympathy. "At least you could make do."

"There was no other choice. We had to. Mother did the sewing and made Father start cooking our meals. My sisters and I had to do the cleaning ourselves."

"This is a large estate!"

"We've emptied and closed down most of it," Faelan said heavily. "We had a handful of staffers left to help, especially for times when I worked closely with Uncle."

"But?" Loki prompted when Faelan fell silent and brooding.

"But he fell ill," Faelan said quietly. "It was a wasting one, leaving him infirm first, then mentally feeble." He looked up at Loki with a wan smile. "He couldn't be the Advisor any longer, and there was no hiding his illness. The remaining staff fled."

"Wouldn't that count as desertion?"

"If it was known, yes. Then they would be thrown out of the city and left to fend for themselves in the wild. No other House would want fickle staff. But..." Faelan sighed. "I couldn't blame them, couldn't sentence them to a slow death by starvation."

"Is it that bad out beyond the wall?"

His gaze was hollow. "It's a fate worse than death, Loki."

"Oh," she murmured, inclining her head a bit. She didn't think it would be so bad, but then, she had enough skill to care for herself in the wild if pressed.

"I had no choice but to take on Faelan's name to protect the family interests when he fell ill," he murmured. "I knew what to do, after all. I already was working on contracts under Uncle's name, so then I just signed them as Faelan."

Loki could hear the regret in his tone. "What happened?"

"I have been Faelan in all but name before attending the High Court myself. Faelan had never attended before, so it was easy to do."

"Faelan?"

"I wasn't home much. There was too much to do." He looked up at Loki, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Faelan had been helping Uncle. I didn't know that until he said something when he was raving with fever. But while I was gone, my sisters and parents were left caring for them, and fell ill as well."

Loki looked at Faelan in sympathy. "And there is no one else here."

"No one else in the household, no. The fields still had their staff, it's far enough away that no one would think they'd catch it. The yields were low, and there was an entire crop that failed that summer, too." His lips twisted bitterly. "We were cursed by the gods, of course. Who would want to be part of that unless they were desperate?"

"So now you have no family here. None left to carry the family name and book. That was stressed as important before."

He made a face at Loki, and groaned. "I know, and I wish my siblings were still alive."

Loki sighed. "It would be nice to have family."

"Yes, but also so that they could take on the mantle of Head of House from me."

"But you do it so well..."

"Maybe so, but I have no wish to actually conceive a child."

Having found such satisfaction with Olenna, Loki frowned. "It wouldn't be so terrible, surely. I suppose actually delivering would be the bad part..."

"The pain of birthing doesn't bother me," he sighed, hanging his head slightly. "I remember hearing that the actual birthing was terribly painful, but that is understandable. Pain doesn't frighten me at all."

"So it's the physical act of conception that troubles you?"

Faelan nodded. "The thought alone is horrible." He grimaced and pressed his lips together. "I am supposed to look forward to it, but I feel ill at the thought of courting or bedding. Though I suppose I must endure it."

"There are ways around that, surely."

"It must be my child by blood, remember."

"But there are ways to conceive without having to go through bedding."

True to his word, Faelan actually looked physically ill. "Let's talk of other things."

"The fallow field, then?" Loki offered, reaching for the discarded map.

"Please," Faelan breathed in relief. "Better to think of increasing crops than my body."

Loki would have to think on this, then. It wouldn't do to finally feel comfortable living somewhere only to be tossed out soon after.

***

Loki tried to explain the concept of artificial insemination twice, and resorted to trying to make parallels with animal husbandry. Faelan grew pale at the thought of it and hushed Loki each time, instead asking her to check on the distant fields. "This is a question of simple biology," she told Faelan in irritation. She remembered Olenna in the pleasure palace then, having to explain that simple biology for the nobles whose parents were too squeamish to teach it. Perhaps Faelan's parents had been the same way, and he had taken it to an extreme.

"There has to be another way," Faelan insisted. "The idea of legs and _that place_ is repulsive, and it's offensive that you keep bringing it up!"

"You need a child, Faelan," Loki hissed. "Avoiding the topic because you think it's offensive isn't going to make that fact change."

Faelan actually spun about and growled at Loki in anger. "It is offensive, it makes me feel ill, and I don't want to even think about it!"

Pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation, Loki heaved a sigh. "I am your advisor, yes?"

"Of course you are," Faelan said tightly, teeth grit and eyes flashing.

"We're supposed to be helping your House regain its prior glory."

"Yes, we are. You were talking to the millers yesterday," Faelan said, obviously seizing on that to avoid talking about begetting an Heir.

"The Nova family is considering another House's grains," Loki snapped.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"You were avoiding me all of yesterday. Which isn't hard to do if there's only two of us in this entire estate!" Loki clenched her hands and mirrored Faelan's angry glare. "There are no secrets between us, Faelan. And I would be a piss poor advisor if I didn't point out the obvious, even if you don't want to hear it!"

"You don't understand!"

"No, I don't!" Loki cried, throwing up her hands in exasperation and rolling her eyes. "I don't have this problem that you do! I found it pleasant and I enjoyed it and I loved my first with all of my blackened heart." She let her arms fall to her sides with a thud. "Can't you try to swallow it down long enough to just conceive your Heir? Or let me go about it in a clinical way?"

Faelan shook his head fiercely. "No, no, no. I can't, I can't, even if the House depends on me for it, I can't do it."

Her hair was in elaborate braids and coils, or else Loki would have run her hands through it in frustration. At the time she had set it, she had thought of Frigga and her elaborate coiffures, and had even conjured dangling earrings like hers. It had made her feel homesick and frightened for a moment; for all that Loki was still angry with all things Asgard, she missed the illusion of belonging that she used to have. This argument with Faelan was throwing that back in her face; all she wanted to do was help, and her ideas were dismissed as useless.

"Your House will end with you, then," Loki said, stepping forward. "That's not what you want, either. There will have to be some kind of sacrifice..."

"All we've ever done since Grandfather's mistake was to sacrifice! I'm tired of it!"

"I'm sorry." Loki grasped Faelan's arms and held on even when he tried to struggle out of her grip. "Faelan, I'm sorry I'm all you've got. I'm sorry I'm not good enough, but I'm _trying_ to help you."

"Your knowledge was supposed to be useful," Faelan accused. "But the magic you have is only for charms and games."

Loki wanted to shake him, and instead pushed him away before she would do something that she regretted. "Do you expect me to just wave my hands and magically conjure a child for you? It doesn't work that way! It might not be the done thing, but adopt an infant! I can craft an illusion of a spouse that would carry the child, and that will satisfy those idiots that think blood is all that matters for a family."

The moment the words spilled out of her mouth, Loki felt her gut twist uncomfortably. No doubt Frigga would sigh and point out the obvious to her. Thor would no doubt agree with that logic, still calling her "brother" and insisting they were family.

She pressed her hand to her belly and tried to ignore the sharp ache in her chest.

Faelan was looking at her in horror, as if Loki had trespassed too far. Perhaps she had, and she would be thrown out of the House and into the wilds outside the walls.

"I wish I could explain it to you," Faelan said, a visible tremor in his body. "I don't understand it myself. But I _can't_ close my eyes to who I am. I am Faelan in Hies, and I can't make my body do these things."

Loki shut her eyes, feeling a wash of shame flood through her. "I understand _that_ feeling only too well," she admitted heavily. "I've lived that for as long as I can remember on Asgard. As much as I didn't fit in there, some part of me still longs for it and wishes that I could have been what they wanted me to be. It would've been so much easier."

"But not true."

"But not true," Loki agreed, opening her eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"You're not from here," Faelan said heavily, stepping to the side so he could lean against the wall for support. His entire body seemed to fold in on itself. "I forget that sometimes. You learned the ways of negotiations quickly, and I can talk to you about the plays and concerts as if you knew all the old stories they were based on."

"I enjoy reading," Loki said heavily.

"They're just stories to you, but they're the lifeblood of our ways. And I don't fit. I suppose it was out of necessity at first, but at this point, it's what I am."

"So where does this leave us?" Loki asked.

Faelan shook his head. "I don't know. But there has to be another way, one that doesn't involve anything involving _this,"_ he said, gesturing vaguely around his pelvis. It was hidden behind thick brocade, but Loki knew what he meant.

She laughed hollowly. "Look at us, misfits both of us, and we still don't quite fit in."

"I wish your magic was more than shadows and illusion," Faelan murmured, reaching out just enough to trace the edge of an embellished sleeve. He'd found the idea of Loki enchanting his clothing to be odd and distasteful, but didn't seem to care if Loki conjured exquisite gowns and shimmering cascades of jewelry.

"My magic is not just illusion or misdirection. There are skills that can manipulate fate, which I did study. Not my forte," Loki admitted heavily. She caught Faelan's hand in hers, squeezing it. "There are too many ways it can go wrong."

Faelan looked at her, hope in his eyes. "But it can be done."

"There are far easier ways to fix your problem," Loki protested.

"No, no, it's perfect!" Faelan cried, an excited flush rising in his cheeks. "This is why the gods sent you to me! We've been haunted for three generations, and your ability will help turn it around. You can literally save us from ruin."

"I don't think--"

"Loki," Faelan insisted, eyes shining as he grinned almost maniacally at her. "My friend. My closest and most trusted confidante. You were sent here to save the Hies family, and I know I can trust you with our future."

Her throat closed and she tried to swallow down the rising emotion. _My friend._ Faelan didn't know all the details of her exile from Asgard, Loki had been too ashamed to tell him, but those words right there were enough to make her soften her stance. "I should be able to help you conceive a child without actually needing a marriage bed."

Throwing his arms around Loki's shoulders, Faelan hugged her tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he cried.

Though she was startled, Loki laughed a little awkwardly and hugged him in return. "Let me study! I won't make any mistakes on your heir, my friend." There was the thrill of being able to say that, of knowing that friendship was returned, that Loki was indeed valued. My closest and most trusted confidante. Oh, Loki almost thought she could swoon from the words, from the naked honesty in Faelan's voice.

"I trust you," Faelan said, hugging her a little tighter before letting go.

"I think it would be a girl. Or, given how we are, it would likely be able to carry life rather than simply inseminate."

"That doesn't matter here, only 'in' or 'ap,'" Faelan insisted. "Whether the heir of the House carries the child or not is not what matters to the High Court."

"Then you will be pleased with the results of my studies." Loki grinned at him and tried to push away her misgivings. There would be time to research alternatives than simply reshaping Faelan's _spá._ That was a delicate task, one that Loki wasn't entirely sure she could pull off on her own. Still, to admit that would be weakness, and she wasn't comfortable with showing that, even to Faelan.

Faelan laughed in delight. "Of course I will! I'm saved!"

"We will bring honor to the House of Hies."

***

Perhaps on Asgard, Loki didn't think she could best Frigga with the _spá,_ and most of her studies failed miserably. On Metian, she was the only openly recognized practitioner of magic, even if she didn't flaunt the skill at court or when walking through the city with Faelan. When she dared to, she walked the secret paths through time and space, retrieving scrolls and tomes from Frigga's hidden library. Her gut twisted at the sight of them, at the elegant room and the memories of past lessons. But no, they thought her dead on Asgard and they seemed to do just fine without her. It was better that they continue to think she was dead, that Loki was gone and was never going to return.

He was never going to return, because _she_ was on Metian and thriving.

Loki pored over the tomes and tried not to think of all the horrible ways that the magic could go wrong, but it was hard not to. It required patience and subtlety, and the mounting desperation that Loki felt whenever she thought of the _spá_ made her head spin. All the old warnings and tales from Asgard were at the forefront of her mind, and Frigga had always said that the warnings were there for a reason. Magic had a cost, a price that would always have to be paid. There was no getting around that, and changing the _spá_ carried a far higher cost than the _seidr_ ever would.

She used a separate room as her magical study, and tried all experiments on plants first. The thought of twisting a living being's form and killing it by accident made her feel ill, but it was necessary to do. This was a learning process, she told herself. A plant withering in the pot or turning to ashes wasn't as harmful as killing a sentient being. Turning a grain stalk into a vine by accident wouldn't lead to tragedy. Causing an explosion scattered sap and fragments of leaves around the room, but it wasn't blood and organs. A plant couldn't accuse her of lying, of being a monster, of being a disaster and curse upon the world.

No, she wouldn't change Faelan until it was safe to do so, and life was not something she could disregard so casually.

Once the plants flowered out of season or created seed pods, Loki could breathe a sigh of relief. It was weeks of studying late at night while going over the financial records and business prospects by day with Faelan. He had done his best with the few assets remaining to the Hies family, but if Faelan couldn't increase the wealth, his child would still be an ap. Loki thought about twisting Faelan's _spá,_ in other ways, but didn't feel confident enough about her skill yet. There were too many things to consider, too many potential futures to take into account that had to be balanced along with the present day.

"You can't stick to plants all the time," Faelan sighed.

"I'm increasing the yield on the crops," Loki told him stubbornly. "If it holds throughout the season, then your coffers increase exponentially. Then I know the magic is safe enough to try on higher life forms."

"Try it on a gorast," Faelan insisted, meaning the small domesticated animals that were usually kept in the barn to devour pests. "If we have enough success there, that should give you the confidence to have me ready to birth an heir."

"You don't even have the finances for a presentation ceremony!" Loki roared, fists clenched at her sides. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"There's talk in the Council now," Faelan said tightly, eyes flashing. "You were at your studies for that meeting," he continued when Loki opened her mouth to speak. "The Rondel family wants to be elevated, and there are too few seats."

"Lies," Loki hissed, shaking her head. "The High Council can elevate whatever family it pleases."

"They want to replace the Hies family with the Rondel," Faelan snapped. "They say that this family hasn't contributed in meaningful ways in generations."

"Having an heir presented won't make them change their minds."

"It will give them pause," Faelan insisted. "Right now, it's too easy to displace me. Displace _us,_ because I am a single person within this House. I can be easily excised from the Council and the House replaced entirely. If there is an Heir, or even an Heir apparent, the more conservative amongst the Council won't unseat me. Then there will be time for the harvest, to build alliances with merchants. If I am unseated, there's no point!"

Loki pinched the bridge of her nose. "If I get this wrong, Faelan..."

"Don't. Don't get it wrong. There's only one chance for this to work."

"No pressure," Loki muttered, shaking her head in frustration.

Faelan caught her hands in his. "I trust you. I appreciate your caution, but I don't need it right now. I need action, and I need results. That's the only way to save this House from ruin."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if it was worth it, if the House shouldn't be left to waste away into nothingness, but that wasn't Loki's call. It wasn't her House, for all that she was the advisor to it. Playing socialite to further Hies interests wasn't terribly challenging, and she felt no deeper connection to any of those fickle nobles at court.

Loki could walk away and try to find another planet to survive on, but Faelan would be caught on Metian. Without a House, he was convinced that he would be cast out and left to fend for himself among the other dispossessed outside of the city walls. Most of those people were considered feral and disease ridden, subsisting in the swamps and forests on whatever scraps they could find. Loki had always suspected that there was nothing wrong with those people, but knew her position in society was precarious enough that she shouldn't say anything.

"I will do as you ask," Loki said heavily. "And I hope we don't regret it."

***

Against her better judgment, Loki experimented on one of the stray gorast that she was able to trap on one of the Hies family fields. The gorast hadn't been in its fertile phase, but soon enough it was pregnant with a litter. A chill ran down her spine when she realized that, and held off on telling Faelan as long as possible. The gorast might not carry to term, after all. Or there could be horrible defects in the litter. Or the birthing itself could go wrong, killing the parent. Being of magic, the pregnancy could simply vanish.

Faelan was trying to be patient, Loki knew. But he often paced the halls at night when unable to sleep, particularly the portrait hall. Thousands of years of Hies heirs on the walls, and there was the final portrait of Faelan. The whispers in the High Council were loud enough that even Loki could hear them, and it wasn't fair to Faelan to worry so much about being tossed out of his childhood home. At the same time, Loki couldn't bear the thought of accidentally harming Faelan if she could prevent it.

 _I'm not a monster. I'm not like those things on Jotunheim, I'm not going to murder children in their sleep or bring horror upon their heads,_ Loki told herself, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair hung loose, and she was deathly pale from staying up late and all but hiding in her offices. It seemed to work so far, but what if she was wrong? What if she wound up killing the only friend she had made since leaving Asgard?

When the gorast birthed its litter, Loki was out of time. Faelan pressed his lips together and wouldn't hear any excuse. "It's time. No matter the cost, we have to do this."

The spell hovered at the end of Loki's fingertips, green-gold and hauntingly beautiful. "Once it's done, it can't be undone. I don't know if I can change it once it's cast."

"If there are physical problems, I wouldn't love my child any less," Faelan said fiercely. "If my child cannot handle the business, I'll do it until my last breath and teach my grandchild." He held onto Loki's shoulder, fingers digging in deep. "I need your help for this, and I won't regret it, no matter what happens."

Tears threatened to fall. "May the roots and branches save us," she whispered, and pressed the spell into Faelan's abdomen.

Loki had a nightmare that night of Faelan sprawled across the floor of the great hall. His hair was spread around his head, eyes staring up at the ceiling. Instead of a child inside a distended womb, a tree had sprouted up and out of him. It was as massive around as any Asgardian oak, but had the silvery gray bark of Yggdrasil. Its branches hung over the body and pushed up into the ceiling of the hall, and there were large seed pods hanging down from them. Loki could see shadowy shapes inside of them that seemed vaguely humanoid, the children that he had wanted so badly even though Loki wasn't sure about her ability with the _spá._

She ran through the halls without bothering to look for a robe, hair streaming behind her in tangled ribbons. It didn't matter that she was only in a sheer nightgown of worn silk, the once sumptuous fabric worn thin with time. She didn't even have slippers on her feet, and barely felt the tile and hardwood beneath her skin. Cold halls never bothered her, anyway, and the chill night air was enough to make it obvious that she was no longer dreaming.

Loki burst into Faelan's room, desperate to be sure that she hadn't caused a terrible mistake, panic making her heart flutter in her throat.

Faelan slept, chest rising and falling evenly beneath his sleeping gown and blankets, eyes fluttering as he dreamed.

Collapsing to her knees, fingers digging into the worn pile of the the carpet, Loki took shuddering breaths. "Okay," she whispered, trying to convince herself that it wouldn't be terrible. The dream wasn't an omen. It wasn't going to happen. She didn't destroy Faelan's future. There might even be a healthy child after all. "I can do this."

She wasn't terrible. She hadn't made a mistake. She wasn't a killer. She wasn't a monster.

Inexplicably, Loki thought of Olenna. _My Queen,_ she'd said, a sparkle in her eyes. _Take control of the life you're given._

Loki closed her eyes and tried to lock away her roiling emotions. She had to control herself better than this. She had to pull herself together, or too much of herself would bleed into her spells and change everyone's _spá._ Loki hadn't been acting like a Queen since her fall into the Void, and certainly hadn't taken control of anything. She was reacting to things, not planning, and was too hesitant, too fearful. Even Faelan was more of a master of his own fate.

"I will be better. I can do this," Loki promised herself and the sleeping Faelan. There was too much riding on her to fail.

***

Loki was coolly polite to the Rondel family in public or when at court, discouraging further interactions. They weren't a bad sort, but there was the continual jockeying for position that made public life on Metian such a headache for her. Faelan was looked down upon for haggling in person and trying to go about sealing business deals, but still he pushed on. With only Loki to help, he had no choice but to broker deals in person while Loki bargained for prices at the market or kept up the relationships with other Houses to ensure that the sales went through. As much as Faelan didn't like the whispers, he had to endure them. There were the fees for the presentation ceremony and registration at court to think of, after all, and there wasn't enough in Hies coffers. It would be too suspicious for Loki to ruin competitors or "find" treasures hidden within the household, particularly when Faelan's grandfather had most important assets stripped by the High Council.

Bereft of any personal funds, Loki would have to walk the hidden paths of Yggdrasil to find treasures for Faelan. With the studies on the _spá,_ she hadn't been able to do that, and now felt too wrung out and stretched thin to hide her tracks well. That would be too great a risk, drawing attention from any creature able to do magic. And if she seized some object that was obviously too valuable, it would raise suspicion against Faelan and raise the question why Loki had needed a place to stay on Metian at all.

She was desperate to help in some way. This was all her fault, after all, and the guilt gnawed at her insides like a rabid animal. Faelan had some stomach pains that morning, and Loki had been too terrified to try any rudimentary diagnostic or healing spells. Magic layered upon other magic, and it felt as though she was blurring the edge of herself in places. Too much of her was bleeding out, and she felt too raw and overwrought to truly concentrate on what she was doing.

Was this what anticipating parents felt like? She dimly remembered talk of that on Asgard and in the Metian High Court. It hadn't mattered to her at the time, talk of children and Heirs and all the bits that went along with it. Loki didn't necessarily consider herself maternal, or not maternal. She simply hadn't thought of children or her future as a parent at all. It was hard enough enduring the day to day to think of a future, especially when she used to worry about appearing properly masculine to meet the demands on Asgard. Those demands weren't required on Metian, but the constant action and worry about Faelan meant that Loki didn't process her own future. Unless she would be able to change her own shape, she couldn't carry a child anyway. And if she had destroyed Faelan's body with this spell work, she absolutely wasn't going to change her shape.

Thoughts twisted in anxious circles, and Loki paced with jerky steps as she awaited Faelan's return from the medical center. Things had been good here. She could walk through the streets to the market every morning to get the day's supplies, and none whispered that she was a monster. If she wanted to dance with the other nobles at the evening balls, she could. If she went to the theater, she was seated in the Hies box and had an excellent view of the stage. Though she would have wanted to try her hand at hosting a ball in the Hies estate, that had been impossible with the lack of funds or even the appropriate furniture for the High Court guests. Her illusions were good, some of which had substance, but her skill wasn't _that_ good to maintain solidity for an entire ballroom over an entire evening.

Loki enjoyed being advisor, actually. She bit her lip and let her gaze rake over the austere walls of the main salon. A flick of her fingers and the walls were done up in cream and gold, seafoam green accents on the wall sconces. The light was brighter, and she created a large harp in the center near the empty fireplace. She stepped forward, running her fingers over the strings, but only a discordant jangle would play.

Her thoughts wouldn't clear. She was worried about Faelan, about harming him, of ruining what little legacy that he had left. The Jotnar had ruined their realm, turning it into a frozen wasteland, squandering their resources, devolving into savage creatures that only wanted to destroy. Loki hadn't seen that exactly on their brief stint on Jotunheim, but it had certainly been barren and the warriors barely wore anything. Loki had always assumed it was out of poverty and desperation, that they were practically feral as they eked out an existence on the ice. She hadn't really considered their feelings when she planned to destroy their realm, because it hadn't mattered at the time. All the stories had called them soulless monsters that didn't deserve to live, and she had grown up believing it.

She spun around at the sound of Faelan returning to the estate. The illusion around her ended in a shimmer of gold, leaving the salon in its barren normalcy. "Faelan?" she called, hearing the anxiety in her voice and hating it.

Faelan burst into the room at a run and caught Loki in his arms. He spun her around, laughing, leading her in a springtime jig. "Wonderful news!"

"It is?" she asked, heart still in her throat as Faelan spun her about.

"I am carrying triplets," he declared. His voice shook with emotion as he spun her out and let go. Loki saw the trembling in his hands as well as the manic grin on his face. "All healthy, all well formed, all likely to be delivered on time and without harm." He collapsed into a chair across from a stunned Loki, lips quivering with emotion. "All my heirs at once, Loki. You've outdone yourself."

"Not if there isn't enough in the coffers to fund the ceremonies," Loki all but wailed, bringing her hands to her mouth in distress. Her eyes were wide, and she didn't understand why Faelan was acting this way. "I can't fix this! I've put you under even worse financial stress."

"There has never been triplets on Metian," Faelan told Loki, eyes shining. He looked almost feverish, and Loki felt the anxiety coil inside her gut again. What had she done?

"And they know you've never courted anyone."

"Never."

"Are they going to cast you out?" Loki asked, terror coiling in her chest. "Spontaneously becoming pregnant, and triplets beside?" She thought she was going to throw up. "If it's never happened, that means it shouldn't have. And they're so superstitious on this world--"

Faelan began to laugh, an almost hysterical edge to it. "On the contrary! The High King has commanded the Court to take on all expenses. The medical center informed them right away, and said this was a sign of favor from the gods themselves."

Loki collapsed into another chair opposite Faelan. "Wait. They're thinking this is a good thing?"

"I am apparently the consort of a god, they said." Faelan giggled. "Can you imagine? Me as the consort of a god? To get such divine favor after our House was haunted for so long and cursed? I think I'm in shock."

"That can't be good for you," Loki said, wondering if she should tempt fate and cast a diagnostic spell anyway.

"Gods are such fickle things, aren't they?"

Mortals on Midgard had called her and Thor gods, and Loki knew full well that she wasn't a goddess by any stretch of the imagination. Perhaps to those without magic, without the technology that Asgard took for granted, with feeble intellect, their power looked like godhood.

Why did the thought make Loki feel so ill?

"So what happens now, as the consort of a god?" Loki asked, trying to sound pleased and supportive for Faelan's good fortune.

"I'm to be protected at all costs, and every need fulfilled to ensure the safety of the Holy Heirs."

If Loki hadn't been sitting down already, she would have collapsed. "So I haven't ruined everything," she said in relief.

"The High King stated the Temple has to pay for all my accounts and fill the estate to its proper glory. No holy child should be raised in austerity, He said."

"You spoke to the High King?" Loki squeaked, eyes wide and mouth falling open. She leaned forward in the chair, shocked. To be honest, she had thought that the High King was a fiction, since He had never gone to any of the High Council meetings or weekend balls.

Faelan nodded. "The first born will be my Heir, of course. The second will be trained for the Temple. Perhaps even becoming the next Scion! If there's aptitude, the third will be trained for the medical center." Faelan's laugh was definitely hysterical now. "From lowest of Houses to the most revered in a single day, Loki. They all want to have a part of the luck bestowed upon my House."

Luck again. The superstitions on this world were saving Faelan, but they could be fickle as well. Magic wasn't so far removed from superstition, and everyone at Court knew of Loki's ability. Frigga had once cautioned her not to show off on this world, and she had thought she was clever. What if she had made a mistake? There were possibilities she might not have planned for, and now she would have to scramble to salvage them.

"Do they think I had anything to do with it?" Loki asked, fear creeping down her spine. She couldn't shake the image of the tree and hanging child-pods from her mind.

"Not at all. Your trickery thus far has only been illusions, not creating life."

As Faelan continued to laugh, Loki wondered if it had been a mistake to come to this planet when she had fallen into the Void. Faelan was in the center of a whirlwind now, all eyes in the city on him and his unborn children. He and his House would survive, but had Loki altered too much? She hadn't tried for triplets, just a single birth.

Was her magic wrong because her body was wrong? It felt like such a long time since Loki had contemplated her actual origins. Did the Jotnar have magic? If they didn't, was that why she had such a hard time with the _spá?_ Was that even why she felt like a woman despite the male body that she had been born with?

These were questions she couldn't pose to Faelan, who was overjoyed at feeling secure once again in his home. Loki wasn't cruel enough to want to take that away, though the worry remained. She had altered Faelan's future, and her skill wasn't anywhere near the mastery that Frigga had. Frigga knew all of the orlogs, which meant she could sidestep disaster easily. What if Loki had set something bad in motion with her interference?

She pasted smiles on her face and kept track of the promises from the High King, the High Court and the Scion of the Gods. Faelan was comfortable and cosseted, a spontaneous pregnancy that was three times as fertile as normal. His fields were plentiful, and now other Houses were begging to do business with him. They all wanted a piece of his luck to rub off on them, and all wanted to have a place in history.

While there weren't nightmares, Loki couldn't shake the sense of wrongness. She did her best to cast scrying spells, to tease out possible futures for Faelan and his children. There couldn't be a horrible outcome, there just couldn't. She was desperate, would change things if she could somehow manage it, even if the pregnancy spell was permanent and progressing smoothly. That sense of dread wouldn't leave her, and reminded her all too much of the feeling that had come over her before Odin collapsed beneath the palace and entered the Odinsleep. Loki wished she could reach out to Frigga for advice. Even talking to _Thor_ would feel grounding in that moment. She was worrying herself sick, and she couldn't even pinpoint why she felt that way.

Was she the one paying the price for Faelan's future?

One of her scrying spells revealed a possible future that seemed to be becoming more and more likely. Loki couldn't tell if it was because she was pushing so hard and drawing in attention from creatures best left alone, or if attention would have come naturally. Creatures with gray skin, sharp teeth and six fingers were turning toward Metian. The scrying spell called the leader of those creatures _The Other,_ but the alien creatures it commanded were even more grotesque to Loki's senses. They craved battle as Asgardians did, but didn't care if it was for a worthy cause or not. All they wanted was the fight and the death, for blood to spill in praise of their ultimate leader.

Loki cut the spell short before it could draw in the darkness. Bad enough the Other was starting to get interested in Metian. If the Other's commander was interested as well... Metian was peaceful, with only police forces at city walls to keep the outsiders in the swamps. They would be woefully unprepared for an interstellar fleet intent on destruction and death.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. On Metian, she could be who she actually was, and there was no one to point fingers or say she was unnatural or evil. No one on the planet knew of her past as male, no one thought she was a monster for circumstances of her birth that she had never even known. Here she was worthy, here she had a friend and confidante. This was a place that she felt _real_ and whole, and she held value.

But if she stayed and said nothing, the entire world could be decimated.

"You're worrying about something," Faelan said one afternoon when they were supposed to be discussing a business contract. "I don't think it's whether the Hadith House will cheat me for milling the grain."

"I've done scrying spells," Loki admitted heavily. "To be sure that you and the children are healthy, that the magic hasn't undone something vital."

"Oh, Loki," Faelan clucked, reaching out to rub her arm in sympathy.

"You're fine, all four of you. Too well, perhaps, but the luck holds for all of you." Loki smiled at him, and clasped his hand tightly. "You're my friend. These months have been good for both of us, and this has worked well."

Faelan frowned. "That sounds ominous."

"Something's coming. A force worshiping death, intent on destroying planets. I don't know if my magic brought their attention here, but I have to divert it if I can."

"You're certain? It's a scrying spell, and didn't you say those could be wrong?"

"I've done it a dozen times, if not more. It's the same each time. They crave death. They worship it. There's no way to stop them except to give them another target."

"Sacrifice another world to keep us safe?" Faelan asked, uncertainty in his voice.

"It's the only plan I've been able to come up with."

"There has to be another way."

"I can't think of one." Loki was in tears, grasping Faelan by the shoulders and shaking him as she cried out.

Clever as Loki was, there was no real way to bargain when there was nothing she had that they wanted. It was conquest and death for its own sake, not for power or glory. She could try to work with them, claim that she wanted a throne and would hand over the deaths they wanted, but ultimately, they wouldn't care one whit for what she needed. If they tired of her, she could just as easily be a target for them.

Faelan was quiet. "What do you need to do?"

Loki swallowed. "I have to be who I used to be. I have to claim to be Loki of Asgard."

"Why?"

"Because Asgard is known throughout the galaxy, not Metian. I can't be Loki of Metian. There's no authority I would have from here. But as a prince of Asgard..."

"Do you really have to do this?" Faelan asked, grasping her arm hard enough to leave bruises, quite the feat against an Asgardian. Or Jotnar.

"If I don't, you and your children have no future."

"I know I have given you a home when you had none, but you can't sacrifice your future for mine!" Faelan insisted. "You're my friend and family, and I need you with me for the children. They're ours, Loki, you can't think I would have cast you aside. _I_ need you. We need each other. There has to be another way."

Something twisted in her gut, but Loki pushed it down and gave him a manic grin. "Because they're our children I have to do this. Don't you see? There's hardly an army on this world, they'll just die in seconds when the Other and the Chitauri come. This world won't survive if they land. Everyone will die, including our children."

"I can't lose you," Faelan whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Loki pulled Faelan in close. "I can bring in others to fight them, of course. I won't battle the Other or the Mad Titan alone. I'm impulsive, but not _that_ bad."

"Who? If they're as dangerous as you say--"

"Worse," Loki insisted.

"--we can go to the High Council. There is time, surely. Prepare a force to protect us from the Other and the Other's forces. We can fight them off."

"You can't!" Loki cried, pulling back from the embrace with wide eyes. She was close to crying, but blinked back tears, knowing that Faelan would slide into outright terror if Loki started crying. "The warriors were trained by those hand selected by the Titan himself. The best of them seek out other warriors for their cause, and they do nothing but maim and kill in any way possible. Your planet won't survive it. I can't think of another way to save you other than through misdirection."

"What will we do without you?" Faelan asked quietly, loosening his grip on Loki's arm.

"What you've always done," Loki replied, shoulders dropping in defeat. "As if I've never been here, and this was just a pleasant dream to while away the months."

"I don't like this."

"I like it even less, but there are no resources for me on this planet. I have no allies, and only a handful of skills that might be useful."

Faelan tucked a loose bit of hair behind Loki's ear. "Don't lose who you are to become the thing they want you to be, Loki ap Hies. Whatever happens, you will always have a home here. You are part of my House, my Advisor and friend. Don't forget that."

Loki gave him a watery smile. "I'll try not to."

There was so much more to lose this time, but Loki had no other choice but to go through with this desperate plan. Faelan wanted to help in some way, but Loki wouldn't let him. "Tell the children about me," Loki said quietly. "Tell them how I was, how I truly am. I am going to have to become something else to save you, and I doubt it will be pleasant."

"Don't lose yourself, Loki. Please promise me that."

She didn't want to lie, so Loki bit her lip and kissed Faelan on the cheek. "Take care of yourself and the children. Stay safe."

Faelan nodded and let Loki descend into the lower level of the estate. Loki's old clothes and belongings were there, locked away because she hadn't thought she would ever need them again. At the same time, she had been too hesitant to lose her last tangible links to Asgard. Now she almost regretted that moment of nostalgia.

Loki opened the trunks and stared down at the black and green and gold. If there was another way to do this, she would gladly have taken it. But this world would never be prepared for the conquering forces that were coming, and this was her only option to save her adopted homeland. She could feel a chill down her spine, a poor omen indeed. But she was used to making do when plans fell apart, and this would have to be no different. She was clever, and those killers were slow witted and used to intimidating the hapless fools of different worlds.

Taking out the armor and clothes, Loki put them out on the floor, almost laying the pieces in the shape of a body. That was appropriate, really. That old version of Loki was dead as far as those on Asgard were concerned, and they probably never mourned him. Metian was a whole new world, one where Loki was her own person here, and something in her chest twisted. It was like grieving, and she didn't want to go through the process. But she had to if Faelan and their children were going to be safe. There was no choice to make, but that didn't stop her from crying as she removed the glamoured jewels from the dress. She moved slowly, so slowly, dragging out every moment for as long as she could, even though there was no point to the delay. Then she had to remove the jewelry and slippers, then the dress itself.

Carving out her heart would have been easier.

Putting on each piece felt like a regression. Even looking at the layers and tunics, the leather trousers and the gilt edging made her want to peel her skin off. Standing naked in the room, hair tumbling loose around her face and down to her shoulders, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and nearly recoiled. That was Loki of Asgard there, the God of Lies. That wasn't Loki of Metian, goddess of the House Hies, creator of life and comfort. Oh, she could try to be kind to him and say it was merely mischief, but that Loki lied and lied and didn't know how to do anything else but lie. He had lied about who he was for so long, that finding out Odin had lied about his origins had simply been another layer of lies. Nothing about him was real.

She didn't like Loki of Asgard much, and having to fall into the role again was pushing her to the breaking point. She didn't want to be a he again, didn't want to be the failure that Odin had rejected. She had gone into the Void to escape despair and failure on Asgard.

Loki closed her eyes and bowed her head, looking away from the mirror. _It's just play acting,_ she tried to tell herself. _Misdirection. Mischief. Mockery. Another mask to wear, another role to play._ But she felt a twisting in her gut and a sickness in her heart at having to appear male again, and now she was deliberately doing it to attract the notice of a madman.

The door behind her creaked open, and there was Faelan. He stood with an uncertain expression, even though he wouldn't try to stop her. "Our House will honor your sacrifice," he said, voice gentle. "I've already started to write it into the book."

"Thank you," Loki whispered. She didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave Faelan and their children, didn't want to abandon the life she had painstakingly built for herself.

Faelan padded over to her and gathered her up in his arms. Loki clung to him and sobbed, her heart breaking. "I'll help you dress," Faelan whispered, stroking her hair.

Loki nodded, face still pressed against his shoulder. She didn't want to do this, but Faelan was putting aside his disgust at the sight of bodies to help her. The least she could do was follow through with her mad plan.

Each layer of clothing, from the thinnest of under tunics to the woven vests, felt like a constricting band across her chest. It was hard to breathe, and Loki resisted the urge to cry coward and rip them back off again. _I have to be a he,_ she told herself sternly, clenching her teeth together so hard she thought they would crack. The armor felt heavy, as if it was made from the heart of a neutron star instead of the reinforced and braided leather and gold. The spells woven into it felt comfortable, at least, the only part of the armor that did now. Faelan reverently strapped on the vambraces and even knelt down to buckle on the boots.

"You give honor to our House," Faelan said, voice cracking and eyes suspiciously shiny. "To defend us and our world, at the cost of your life."

Yes, Loki of Metian was dying, wasn't she?

Loki thought to walk the hidden path to Yggdrasil alone, but Faelan didn't want to allow it. "I could say something mean," Loki told him, not meeting his eyes. "I could cut your heart out with words, leave you hating me and our year together. I would make it so you would never mourn me, and you would be glad to be rid of me."

"Never," Faelan promised. "You are my family, Loki. No matter what world you hail from, you will always have a home here if you survive." His voice broke and he sniffled, looking over the shimmering portal that separated Metian from the silver branches of Yggdrasil. The darkness between the branches looked absolute and final, and his breath hitched. "Come back to me if you can. Come back to _us._ Our children will love you, and will know how hard you worked to ensure their safety."

Eyes closed and heartsick, Loki didn't want to promise something that couldn't be kept. Loki fell into the Void again. This time, there was no chance of being saved, only falling and losing everything.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> AsterRoc:  
> I came up with the prompt for this fic ages ago, so when I mentioned I was interested in doing my first podfic of someone else's work for pod_together 2018, we realized this would be the perfect fic for it! 
> 
> I’d like to give a shoutout to the [BulletsAndBones](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCuE8QI3rOfyiUL-W3yqvWOA) YouTube channel for some great Garage Band tutorials. 
> 
> The songs for this fic were chosen together, and are:
> 
>   * Ch 1 start: [Ophelia by MONAKR ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SkpqxZYJaps)
>   * Ch 1 end: [Good Grief by Dessa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMVA2TY4fFE)
>   * Ch 2 start: [No Roots by Alice Merton](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUdyuKaGQd4)
>   * Ch 2 end: [The Sound of Silence cover by Disturbed](https://youtu.be/u9Dg-g7t2l4)
> 

> 
> The cover art was brainstormed together and executed by AsterRoc. Sources for images are:
> 
>   * [Tom Hiddleston as masc / MCU Loki](http://fr.universcinematographiquemarvel.wikia.com/wiki/Fichier:Loki.jpg)
>   * [Katie McGrath (taken by Mitch Jenkins for Tribune magazine) as fem Loki](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/merlin1/images/5/53/Katie_McGrath.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20101128164817&format=original)
>   * [Corn snake on a black background](https://www.123rf.com/photo_15564160_corn-snake-isolated-on-black-background.html)
> 



End file.
